Thorns in the Darkness
by ryquest
Summary: [Sei x Youko] Eriko is getting married to Yamanobe sensei. As the members of the Yamayurikai gather for the occasion, Sei is jolted by a looming visit of a specter from her past even as her friendship with Youko is irrevocably altered in the process.
1. Arrival

NOTE: Standard fanfic disclaimers apply. Marimite nor any of its characters to not belong to me, by any means. I make use of them to frame this story, anyway, in the hope that this tale will somehow be worth telling.

I've taken some bits from the anime and some from the novel and manga translations floating around (most notably from the wonderful folks behind and the Ozaku blog). For the most part, though, it's speculation on my part about the relationship between two magnificent, somewhat enigmatic, certainly interesting ladies from the Yamayurikai once free from the confines of Lillian.

**THORNS IN THE DARKNESS**

_Chapter 1: Arrival_

There aren't many occasions that could make me feel anxious, apprehensive even. A wedding normally wouldn't be one of them, save perhaps if I'd been forced to plan my own. Thankfully, I haven't – but I have been summoned to attend Torii Eriko's wedding, and despite our erstwhile enmity, how could I refuse? After all, Eriko had tried her best to be an amiable and considerate friend during our years in high school. Part of that could be attributed to Youko's meddling, to the fact that she had often forced us in situations that required us to work together closely without resorting to strangling each other. Still, despite her dubious penchant for the pursuit of the unusual, Eriko could be considerate and caring beneath her sometimes apathetic façade.

The gravel path crunched beneath my boots as I made my way down the path to the ryokan. I suppose only Eriko would have chosen to conduct the ceremony at a hot spring resort in Kyushu – a western wedding ceremony at a very traditionally Japanese venue, I might add. I'd be giving up a good portion of my summer vacation to attend, but then it wasn't too often that a full Yamayurikai reunion took place. Oh, I'd see each of the old gang once in a while – Eriko, Rei, Yoshino, Sachiko, Yumi-chan, Shimako, Youko – but most of them our meetings I'd classify as seldom. My few conversations with Youko were often too hurried, somewhat impersonal even. She never inquired if I'd found someone special after Shiori, and when I'd attempted to inquire into her own affairs, she'd skillfully direct the conversation to something else. It did seem surprising given how much she'd meddled with my life back at Lillian. Maybe Ms. Law School simply grew more pragmatic the longer she became engrossed in her chosen soon-to-be-full-pledged profession.

I arrived at the ryokan's entrance at last, and I heaved a sigh of relief as I put down the backpack I'd been lugging for a good half-hour. I was immediately greeted by on old woman dressed in a brown yukata, who promptly bowed and inquired if I was part of Eriko's party, and when I replied in the affirmative, she immediately offered to show me to my room. I was about to take her up on the offer since a nice warm futon did sound particularly inviting, but we were interrupted by a happy laugh that came from behind her. Eriko stepped forward, dressed in a yellow yukata – invoking immediate recollection of her tenure as Rosa Foetida – and enfolded me in a warm embrace. I returned it briefly before stepping back to survey her at arm's length. She'd grown her hair out a bit, though she still wore it back with a headband. But she did look positively glowing – as I suppose most brides aspire to look right before their impending matrimony. And content. Despite the inherent eccentricity of their matchup, it did seem as if Eriko had chosen Yamanobe-sensei well.

"Sei!" Eriko exclaimed. "I never would have supposed you'd be the second-most punctual person to appear from the Lillian crowd, especially given your track record. Whatever did college do to you?"

"Made me a bit saner to deal with, I suppose." I grinned at her, the same impudent smile I'd always sported back in high school. "But you said someone arrived here first? And just who managed to beat me?"

"As if you needed to ask. Of course Youko got here first. Well, she actually got here only a couple of hours ago. She looked more tired than you, though. I suppose it must have been the longer commute."

"Ah. Of course." The former Rosa Chinensis was the epitome of a proper woman after all. Polite to a fault and innately perceptive; she had hidden her cunning nature behind a well-composed smile, or rather, a well-mannered smirk. From most students at Lillian, anyway. To those of us who knew the extent of her meddling, she sometimes bordered on being positively evil. Well, perhaps I should say more doggedly insufferable than evil, simply because she'd irritated me by knowing me all too well. But she'd always been rather beautiful. That little fact I hadn't failed to notice, though I'd never told her that I found her to be so.

"Would you like to go to your room now? I can show you where it is," Eriko offered, and then turned to the old lady. "Thank you, obaa-san, I'll not trouble you with my friend here any longer." She tugged at my arm. "Come on, Sei". I gave Eriko a small, mocking bow and obligingly followed.

The ryokan didn't seem to be too big, but the atmosphere seemed cozy, with the high-vaulted ceilings and the spacious hallways. There came the soft tinkling of hanging bells in some corner of the hallway, but I found the trill to be soothing more than disturbing. I saw a faint trail of wispy tendrils of steam rising from a short distance beyond the patio, which is where I would guess the springs are located. I'd removed my boots at the entrance and donned soft slippers just like Eriko had been wearing, and the shuffling of our steps made a dull echo as we made our way to the bedroom. I looked around but it seemed that the other guests were still elsewhere or perhaps resting from the journey.

"Your brothers have arrived?" I queried, to which Eriko nodded. "And how do they feel about their darling Eri-chan wedding a man ten years older with a kid to boot?"

"A bit upset, but that's to be expected." She sighed, but smiled as if remembering a more pleasant memory. "Of course, my father did back off a bit when Yamanobe-sensei showed up at his door and firmly but respectfully demanded that we were to be wed right after my third year in college. I backed him up by saying that I would permanently refuse to date any of them – my father and brothers – if they'd objected too strongly to our plan."

"That hint of a threat, I suppose, they couldn't live with." I chuckled softly, picturing the outraged expression of the Torii men. Being adored could be advantageous for blackmailing purposes, I'd say. "Only you could think of this kind of wedding, though."

"Stop complaining, at least I'm not making you wear a dress," she stated matter-of-factly. I'd adamantly refused to don one with too many frills. "It may be unusual, but I am having you escort Youko down the aisle, you know. She insisted."

"I'm to…what?!" I missed a step or two, almost dropping my backpack in surprise. "Isn't the maid-of-honor supposed to walk alone, from what I'd read of western weddings?"

"Youko said that since we're being unorthodox anyway, we might as well go all the way in doing things slightly different." Eriko grinned then whirled one forefinger in front of my face. "And you're not refusing, Satou-san. Think of it as a sort of penance for having called me dekochin all those years ago."

"Hmph!" I snorted, eyeing her suspiciously. "I'll think of something to make you regret calling me a half-breed, just you wait."

"As long as it's after the ceremony," Eriko replied loftily, tossing her brown tresses as she'd been wont to do, back at Lillian. I ran my fingers through my own chin-length hair. Mine was probably the hairstyle that had changed the most, except maybe for Yumi-chan finally losing her pigtails shortly before Sachiko graduated, after she'd chosen Touko-chan as her petite soeur. I suppose Drill Girl could be charming in her own right – when she wasn't trying to spark intrigue between Sachiko and Yumi-chan.

We walked for a bit more before we arrived at a corner space. Eriko shoved aside the sliding door and ushered me in. I nodded and stepped inside the room. It was sparsely furnished, though with a good-sized futon at one corner and a small kotatsu at the center with a ceramic tea kettle and two teacups on top of it. Beside the futon was a small dresser with a vase bearing one freshly cut white rose. A nice touch, if perhaps a bit too nostalgic.

"Here we are." Eriko spread her hands as if to show off the room. I nodded and plopped down near the kotatsu. "Feel free to rest for a bit, Sei. It'll be a good four hours before dinner will be served down at the dining hall.

"Or, if you'd prefer, you can always head over to the hot spring. It's separate for men and women, and Youko already made her way there just before you arrived." She paused, as if considering what she'd just offered. "But maybe you should just stay here and rest. I'm not entirely sure Youko would be safe alone with _you_, of all people."

"What? You know she was one of the people I'd never attempted to flirt with back at Lillian." Well, seriously attempted to flirt with, anyway. I did offer to tie her collar ribbon for her, once. But that had been partly mocking her for calling me out for flirting with some first years using the same tactic. I must have looked like I was pouting, though, since a small grin appeared on Eriko's features.

"That was then. We're all adults now – as much as the word could be applied to you, Sei. And more, shall we say, experienced."

Eriko left the room and shut the door behind her before I could retort. I let out a sigh even as I felt my irritation dissipate. I'd never been one to complain for too long, especially over a trivial matter. Except it didn't feel too trivial. Eriko had stopped short of implying that I'd be interested in Youko – for flirting, or maybe something more? I almost snorted. If I'd wanted _that_, I mentally remind myself, I would've attempted to seduce Youko right before we'd graduated from high school. The fact that I'd never bothered to do so should speak volumes about my romantic interest level in the almighty Ms. Lillian.

That was then. The words hung softly in the air, like the fading echoes of the last notes of a song, like the notes that tend to linger in the consciousness, long after the song had been played out. Had something changed? Or, perhaps, I should be asking what if something _hadn't_ changed? If there was something that I'd adamantly refused to acknowledge, all along.

I decided to stuff my belongings into the closet beside the futon. I found a green yukata marked with the pattern of numerous interlocked white roses inside, along with a towel and other bathing supplies. I debated whether I should in fact take Eriko's suggestion to lounge around at the hot spring seriously, mindful that there was a good chance that I'd probably end up alone there with Youko just as Eriko had stopped short of warning me about. Taking a nap did sound inviting after my tiring trip, but some part of me missed the meddler I'd verbally sparred with not entirely too long ago. The meddler who always seemed to have a leg up on my plans – and had a ready counter to foil any of my antics. The woman whose confident, assured smile almost seemed at odds with the perennial twinkle of mischief that often lit her eyes, though she'd seen fit to glare at me a few times when I'd come to realize that even her well of patience was not inexhaustible after all.

Youko was, after all, the meddler who'd held my head on her lap as silent tears had coursed down my cheeks the night that Shiori had left me, when onee-sama had taken us both to her house and then had left us alone in her room for a while. It was she whose soft, graceful fingers had smoothed my hair from my face even as she had kissed my forehead and promised that I would always have her to turn to, especially after onee-sama graduated. When onee-sama had returned, it was Youko who had gently tucked me into the futon and allowed onee-sama to take her turn holding me close until fatigue had finally forced me to drift off into sleep.

It was Youko who came to me in my dreams then – not Shiori – and had taken my hand and led me deep into a forest of thorns, where branches thicker than my calves choked out the threads of radiant white light that managed to filter in from somewhere above us. We'd kept walking side by side until the very darkness that wrapped us seemed sharply alive. It had been her presence that kept me from wanting to remain cloaked in that darkness, never to emerge. And, until I'd been jolted into wakefulness by the harsh noontime glare streaming in from onee-sama's window, in that shadowy recess where the gloom seemed to cut into my very soul, Youko's hand had never let go.

Sighing, I changed into the yukata they'd thoughtfully set aside for me, slung the towel over my shoulder and resignedly headed for the hot spring. Maybe I did need to revisit that forest of thorns I thought I'd escaped long ago after all.


	2. Confluence

NOTE: Standard fanfic disclaimers apply. Marimite nor any of its characters to not belong to me, by any means. I make use of them to frame this story, anyway, in the hope that this tale will somehow be worth telling.

**THORNS IN THE DARKNESS**

_Chapter 2: Confluence_

I found her leaning against a rock in a distant corner, the steamy water past her breasts, almost to her neck. Her hair had grown slightly longer than our Lillian days, but still perfectly trimmed, her bangs parted in the middle as before, almost touching her eyes yet not enough to obscure them. She hadn't noticed my approach, or possibly she had, but decidedly kept her eyes shut, her lips unsmiling, held in a flat line that gave her a pensive expression. I flung my towel on a nearby perch, slid into the water and walked toward her, until we stood no more than an arm length apart. I fell in beside her and also leaned against the same boulder, our shoulders almost touching.

"Hisashiburi da ne," I murmured, watching her from the corner of my eye, marveling at the fine chiseled features that maturity – such as could be gained in three years in college – had made seem less girlish, more articulated, certainly, but nonetheless even more lovely. "Law school suits you, Youko-san."

"Dou itashimashite, Sei-san." Her eyes flew open and regarded me with a searching look. Eyes whose shade sometimes resembled the lichen moss that clung to rocks along the seashore, sometimes as shadowed as the sky just before the first specter of dawn. There was still a trace of her old mischief in those orbs, though the flicker in her gaze seemed to betray something foreign to the certified Youko all-knowing gaze – apprehension.

"I should've known you'd put everyone to shame by arriving first, as usual." I tried to make light conversation, averting my eyes slightly. The hint of unease that seemed so foreign from her almost always confident expression I found more worrisome – and in some ways more bothersome – than her usual shrewd gaze.

"Well, I didn't expect you to be early, of all people," she retorted. A sigh escaped her lips before she averted her eyes from mine. We stood in silence then, letting the steam rise about us in filmy threads, until it seemed we'd been shut off from the rest of the ryokan, until I could almost believe we were in our own little world. We'd entered a forest of fog, it seemed, in place of a forest of thorns.

"How long has it been, Sei? Nearly two years?" Youko broke the silence, though she still refused to look at me directly. Her voice was soft and measured, as always. Not insinuating, though, just quizzical, and cautious.

"About that long," I agreed, trying to think about how long it had been since she and Eriko had met up to visit me at Lillian. That was right before she'd poured herself entirely into her schoolwork – her words, not mine – immersed into learning more about the hard-nosed world of her future profession. That period of silence had been interspersed with the occasional text or voice message, and even a short phone call or two. Those had, however, been rather impersonal and detached, especially coming from the woman who was constantly worried about others almost as a second nature.

"I'm sure you've enjoyed the break from my meddling, though." She let out small laugh which she cut short, but not before I could hear the ironic tinge in her attempt at merriment. I found my chest almost constricting. Clearly I was beside a changed woman, one on which those two years had made a marked difference, whereas I could not imagine I'd evolved as much during my sojourn at Lillian University. But then again I wasn't in the no-nonsense, still male-dominated field that Youko was now forging her way through.

Still, I had to wonder, would she still be the type of friend who would hold my hand and see me through the darkness through the force of her sheer will alone?

"Maybe." More precisely, maybe it wasn't so much the lack of meddling that I enjoyed but rather the realization that I'd been coming into my own, living a full life, enjoying my university tenure just like any normal college student without betraying hints of my shrouded past.

"I did miss you, you know. High school at Lillian was rather…isolated, shall we say, when compared to a co-ed institution. I never knew it could be so hard to give a damn before. There are those who construe genuine concern as a major weakness."

"Oh? I always did dislike your strengths." I half-mocked her, though in reality what I'd really disliked was the fact that I could never match those aforementioned strengths. Nor did I want to, frankly. It was enough that one of us had been the dependable type. I doubt I'd be quite as astute in dealing with people as Youko had been, nor half as conniving in coming up with schemes to direct circumstances to produce her desired outcome.

"I still do like your weakness," she stated matter-of-factly. "I wondered then, as now, what it would have been like, if I'd also had been…similar. Not to Shiori-san, but to Shimako, perhaps."

"I never wanted you to be," I replied back, and the vehemence in my voice made Youko's head jerk up to stare at me, though her eyes were still hooded, measuring. "I had more than enough faults for the two of us, thank you. You _know_ if we'd been the same type of person, the Yamayurikai would've collapsed, and we would have been booted out of the student council in embarrassment. And how'd that look on your honor student transcript, eh?"

"You know the type of weakness to which I'd been referring, Sei," she retorted levelly, eyes growing even more guarded, apparently not biting at my attempt at evasion. "And I've always known you weren't stupid, or dense. Rather, you choose to ignore what would have been, shall we say, inconvenient."

And suddenly, her face was right before me, having grabbed my shoulder to drag me closer. Then her lips were on mine, warm and cool at the same time, ardent though not completely inviting. Collected, if a kiss may be described as such, coming from a woman one might commonly describe as unflappable. One hand came up to stroke the nape of my neck, to draw me closer, and I felt skin slide against skin as our breasts touched, buffered only by the undulating currents surrounding our bodies. She stole my breath in that brief instant. I felt perched as if upon a precipice, unable to take the final step to hurl myself over the edge. Yet before I could engulf myself in her scent, her taste, Youko withdrew, leaving me gasping for air, gaping at her now-impassive countenance, sorely disappointed.

"I had one other wish I never told you about, back in Lillian," Youko said, her voice flat, considered. "I got to see the Rose Mansion filled with students, true, but I did want to know what it would've felt like, just once, to touch you just as I imagined Shiori-san must have."

"Shiori…never touched me that way," I mumbled, the whirling sense of confusion keeping my head abuzz. "True, we kissed once, but—"

"Enough," she laid a finger across my lips to shush me, before darting past me to head back to the entrance. I watch her retreat from me, as distant and unreachable as I had perceived her to be during her days as Rosa Chinensis. If Shiori had been an angel in the Catholic sense, Youko had been Kaguya-hime, who had kept herself distant in her otherworldly wisdom. More so now that I felt even more like a rebuffed suitor, completely unsuitable for the resplendent woman she had been then, that she still was.

"Why meddle again, Youko?" I could not resist blurting out the words after her, accusingly, pleadingly. "Why now?" When I thought myself free of you, I wanted to add. Not when I'd thought that once we had emerged from that darkness, I no longer would need you in the light.

"Maybe akin to your onee-sama," she began, her voice even, her back still turned to me, "it's because I simply happen to like your face."

There was a hint of a smile in her voice then, but before I could mull those words in my head, she'd climbed out of the hot spring into her waiting robe, a blood-red yukata that must be even more of Eriko's handiwork. Without looking back, she rounded the corner toward the exit and was gone.

Now alone and enveloped by the wraithlike steam emanating from the spring, I once again felt trapped in that old dream forest. Only this time the darkness seemed complete. I reached out into the nothingness, but no hand was there to take it.

* * *

The continuation of this little vignette is my take on how the passing of years and time spent apart would affect Youko and Sei's personalities, and just how much of the past had gone unspoken and unresolved between them. I've yet to get around to introducing the other members of the Yamayurikai into the story, but seeing as they're a complex and ever-combustible bunch, it is something I look forward to writing. :) Comments and/or suggestions would be appreciated. Arigato!  



	3. Deviance

NOTE: Standard fanfic disclaimers apply. Marimite nor any of its characters to not belong to me, by any means. I make use of them to frame this story, anyway, in the hope that this tale will somehow be worth telling.

* * *

**THORNS IN THE DARKNESS**

_Chapter 3: Deviance_

I stumbled back to my room more than an hour later, feeling woozy from having lingered a tad too long at the hot spring. I ran into the innkeeper in the hallway, who informed me that I still had a couple of hours before dinner would be served. I entertained the thought of inquiring whether other members of the old Lillian crowd had already arrived, but my brief meeting with Youko had left me feeling drained; more wearied, perhaps, than the plane-hopping and train-hopping required to get to the ryokan had made me. It was not just that Youko had changed, but our relationship had been irrevocably altered as well. I could no longer pretend to be blissfully ignorant of the undercurrent that had run through the close friendship we'd shared back then. Moments ago, that same current had pulled me under and swept me through its ebbs mercilessly, until it had finally receded after having unceremoniously flung me back to the surface.

I pulled back the covers of my futon and slipped underneath, wanting desperately to sneak in a nap. I needed to regain my sense of equilibrium before I saw Youko again, I knew; otherwise, I'd either be babbling like an idiot or glaring at her like a homicidal lunatic over dinnertime. The fact that she'd kissed me was unnerving by itself, but that she'd stopped so callously after having initiated the act was even more disconcerting. Whatever tactics Youko had been absorbing at law school made her more formidable in emotional manipulation, or at the very least a greater threat to my sanity.

But sleep had remained elusive, and I lay underneath the covers with one arm pressed against my forehead, all the while staring idly at the ceiling. Most would regard me as impulsive, and while I did have a streak of recklessness, that devil-may-care attitude failed me now. I knew I could have found out where Youko's room was located if I'd truly been so inclined, maybe even rushed in and demanded answers for her behavior. Yet I dreaded knowing what those answers might turn out to be. There had been a hint of wistfulness in Youko despite her impetuous behavior. In that moment when she had kissed me, I felt her waver – she had trembled slightly, almost imperceptibly, before the sudden loss of contact between us.

I had felt Youko's touch tremble only once before. That was when she had stroked my face that night at onee-sama's room, unsure if I would welcome her touch – indeed, welcome her very presence at all – and yet had been too concerned to depart. For the most part I had kept silent then, except for the infrequent whimper that broke through my resolve whenever I thought of Shiori, imagining her watching my receding profile from on board the train, as she had stoically embarked toward a future I was no longer to be a part of. Youko's touch had been warm, and while she attempted not to actively intrude on my grief, I could sense that her touch begged for something more altogether, a hint of wanting to take this brief moment of contact beyond anything I could reasonably offer at that moment.

"Would you ever leave me alone from your meddling?" I had managed to mumble out, uttering something to break the stifling stillness between us, seeking speech to dispel the connection that seemed to be pulling me in tighter, ever so slightly, with each passing moment.

"Not yet," Youko had replied, her hands pausing for a brief second before resuming its ministrations on my face. "Perhaps never, though I can imagine that you cannot possibly tolerate having me around that long."

"Never is a long, long time, Youko." I had removed my head from her lap and wiped off the streaks of tears off my face with the back of my hand. "But maybe it will take me just that long to forget Shiori."

"I doubt you'll ever forget her." She had sighed, the sound a gentle caress that brushed through me swiftly, its traces bearing the faint overtones of regret. "In fact, Sei, I doubt you'll even try."

As ever, the prescient judge of character in Youko had been correct. I haven't consciously tried to dredge out memories of Shiori, especially after the years had passed. Yet in those moments when I'd been too alone with my own thoughts, my mind would drift back to the chapel, to the image of her kneeling before the altar, the morning light crowning her hair in a halo worthy of Maria-sama herself. And I would still be standing at the door of the chapel, too enthralled to retreat, too transfixed to interrupt her reverie until she herself had stood up and faced me. And then Shiori would smile, and I would know in my heart that I had glimpsed a small piece of what a vision of heaven might be like, and would keep that memory locked within my soul for the rest of my life.

Perhaps Youko had had a point in having meddled too much in my life back at Lillian, forcing me to subdue the memories in favor of living life at the moment. She had encouraged my flirting, to a certain level, by her tacit disregard of it, rightfully guessing that I had not been about to embark on another serious relationship so soon. But then she too had tried to make another point by having meddled too little during our years in college, having seen too little of her, having less of a reminder of my past as possible, a future wherein our lives would be barely intertwined.

Had Youko, too, been trying to exorcise her own demons – or put singularly, demon? And I would be right to suppose that the demon would be taking the form of myself?

Was having kissed me the final form of reluctant penance for affection that had, for too long, lay ensnared within that forest of thorns?

A knock on the door broke through my reverie, and I rose from the futon half-expecting to find Youko outside my door, half-dreading the possibility. But it was Eriko who stood outside, and she peered at me with head cocked slightly to one side, a quizzical expression on her face. I nodded to her and stood aside, allowing her to enter before I slid the door shut behind her. We seated ourselves in front of the small kotatsu near the center of the room, almost reminding me of one of our Rose Mansion sessions back at Lillian, except then we had chairs back then.

"I take it you've already met Youko?" Eriko was the first to speak. I nodded, not entirely trusting myself to reply just yet. "Your meeting must have been...unusual, to render to back to the dour Sei of our early school years."

"It was," I said. Eriko waited for me to continue, but I did not want to proceed. How to tell her what Youko had done, if she herself hadn't already known what had transpired at the onsen? "I seem _that_ anti-social to you again, huh?"

"Fairly close." Eriko leaned forward and peered at my face. There was an earnestness in her expression, a wistful cast that suddenly reminded me of the flicker of doubt I'd detected in Youko's guarded look just before our lips had touched. "Sei...what had she told you at the hot spring?"

"Nothing much," I replied, averting my eyes from her gaze. _That is, Youko hadn't exactly let me do a lot of talking_,I wanted to add, but didn't say out loud. "That she still liked seeing my face would probably sum it up."

"Then she didn't mention...her visit?" Eriko frowned. "She didn't mention that we might have one more guest at the wedding, hadn't she?"

"It's your wedding, and one more guest shouldn't be my concern, should it?" I was confused now, and ran my hand absentmindedly through my mess of short-cropped hair. "Unless I'm supposed to serve as escort for more than one other person aside from Youko?"

"She won't need an escort," Eriko replied, "but she will want to talk to you. Or rather, you might want to speak to her, Sei. S-she's a sister who is working with a congregation in Nagasaki–"

"W-wait, you don't mean..." I grasped Eriko's shoulders and shook her, for I was shaking myself, dreading what seemed to be the inevitable conclusion of this exchange. There was only one Catholic sister I would actually concern myself with, and one whom Youko would deign to visit. One specter from the past, it seemed, loomed larger than any form of penance or forgetfulness we had exacted on ourselves the past few years.

"But what is she doing here?! At your wedding? And what business does Youko have tracking her down?!" I was aware that I had let go of Eriko and was shouting, having stood up to head for the door, ready to track down Youko to demand answers about this latest bout of meddling.

"Calm down, Sei," Eriko herself had stood up to block my way. "Listen to me, Shiori-san actually tracked Youko down through the headmistress at Lillian. She appealed to Youko to visit her, in fact. She wanted Youko to speak to you, to deliver another letter, but this time, Youko insisted she come in person to see you. Then Youko told me about their meeting, and we thought this wedding might be an opportunity to set the meeting up.

"Sei...Shiori-san is grievously ill. S-she...she's dying."

I shook my head in disbelief, wanting Eriko's voice to fade, wanting our conversation to recede into that fuzziness that characterizes dreams. But Eriko remained standing in front of me, her expression sympathetic, and I realized that once again I had been pricked by the thorns of my past, and that the scab that had stemmed the bleeding in my heart had come undone. Just as it had been before, the pain once again seemed too unbearable, sapping what remained of my strength, causing my knees to buckle. I knelt on the floor, too stunned to speak, too numbed to feel anything but the steady flow of my own tears.

After what seemed to be an eternity, a pair of arms engulfed me, and I willingly allowed myself to sink into that embrace. At first I thought it was Eriko, but the faint scent that tickled my nose made me realize otherwise. I pushed myself off her harshly, stumbling back. I glared at her, but her eyes met mine coolly, that restrained look once again making her seem remote, aloof, unattainable. Or perhaps her expression was simply a mirror of my own.

"Come to console me again, Youko?" I shot at her. I felt my hand twinge with the urge to slap that ever-composed face. I clenched my fists to my side instead. I looked around the room, idly wondering if Eriko was in some corner, observing. But we were alone in the room. Youko had apparently made herself welcome while I'd been too distraught to notice. "You have a knack for showing up just when my life's been torn apart. Except you're partly responsible for it this, time."

"I wish it could be otherwise," she replied levelly. "Sei, I will admit I was curious to see what type of woman Shiori-san had become. Frankly, I didn't want you two to meet again. You could even say I have a vested interest in maintaining the status quo. But to refuse the wish of a dying woman...I just could not do it."

"She practically left me for dead all those years ago, at least emotionally," I muttered. "But then, there was onee-sama and the Yamayurikai – Eriko, Yumi-chan, Shimako, and you. I really thought I was free again, Youko. It turns out, I'm still not. I never was."

"And I'm still here, meddling once again." I almost heard the smile in Youko's voice, followed by a soft chuckle. For a moment, she was the Youko who had stayed behind at the Rose Mansion to chat with me when everyone had left, the Youko who had sat beside me by the windowsill in easy companionship. But then she averted her eyes from mine, her collected expression returned, and she was the formal law student once again. "As it turns out, I never was free, too."

Her yukata rustled as she made a move to leave, but I use what remained of my reflexes to grab one of her wrists and pulled her to me. I almost crushed her to me as I buried my face in her hair, clinging to her scent and luxuriating in the soft feel of her body beneath the sheath of fabric. No words passed between us, but she relaxed into my embrace, and I felt her hands gently stroking my hair, her lips brushing softly against the nape of my neck, eliciting an involuntary shudder. I knew I desired her then, had desired her even before this moment, but had no right to claim her; not yet, not until I had fully relinquished what claim had been left on me by another.

"Never is never long enough for us, it seems." Youko's soft voice seemed resigned, but there was more than a tinge of good humor there to give me hope. This time, it was she who pushed herself away, though not too forcefully. "Talk to her, Sei. You know we've all been doing our own share of waiting long enough."

"Will you still meddle once I've done so?" I asked, realizing I needed the reassurance, knowing that I could not return to the way things had been between us. _I missed you, Youko, _I plead with my eyes, _I need you._

"Only if you'd ask me to, after all this." She favored me with a small smile before sliding the door open. "Dinner is due in a few minutes. I'll see you at the dining room. The rest of the old Yamayukai group will want to see you too." She stepped outside and slid the door shut behind her.

I considered skipping dinner altogether, but the grumbling noise emanating from my stomach indicated otherwise. Having been thrust back into the past, I had no recourse but to partake in the repast of the present, it seemed. Yet Youko had been correct in that we have been playing our own waiting games in the darkness. For too long I had reeled Youko into that maze of thorns to be pricked by my own selfishness. Perhaps it was my turn now, to seek and free her, to grasp her hand and pull her forth into my own light.

* * *

There, it seems another little vignette over. :) It's probably obvious that I enjoy the dynamic between the three Super Rosas, but more so the hidden ebbs and flows in Sei and Youko's relationship, and how these women seem to have an innate understanding of each other though they may have left too much unsaid while at Lillian. And I always wondered just how much of a regard did Sei still hold for Shiori, another avenue I'd wanted to explore. As always, comments and/or suggestions much appreciated. 


End file.
